


Gone To Earth

by Suzie_Shooter



Series: Run To Ground [2]
Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz
Genre: First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Sex, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-25
Updated: 2012-02-25
Packaged: 2017-10-31 17:46:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/346764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suzie_Shooter/pseuds/Suzie_Shooter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yassen takes the wounded, exhausted Alex to safety. And promptly takes advantage of him. Not that Alex is complaining.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gone To Earth

**Author's Note:**

> Follows directly on from 'Run To Ground'.

Alex had long since lost track of the time. His watch had stopped working the previous day, and the fact he hadn't slept since had done nothing for his perception of the passing hours. All he knew was that it was still dark, and still raining, and they seemed to have been walking forever.

He was spent, totally, was trusting entirely in Yassen to keep them safe from any further attacks. Too tired even to wonder at himself for that. He wanted to stop, needed to rest, but Yassen wouldn’t let him, urging him on with a curt word and a hand at his back when he stumbled.

Finally, after what might have been years, Yassen paused at the end of one of the city's many bridges and Alex felt a light touch on his arm. Realised he was to go down the steps, narrow and slippery, towards the dark water and had a rather belated attack of doubt. What if, after all – 

But Yassen was pushing him now, impatient, and Alex had to hurry down the steps or risk losing his footing. At the bottom he found himself on the cracked concrete of the tow path, puddles reflecting the faint orange glow of the streetlights far above. Yassen was urging him forward, towards the darkness under the bridge, and he felt a shiver of uncertainty. 

"Yassen – "

"Quiet." The admonition was sharp, for all its hushed tone, and at the same time Alex realised the darkness in front of him was rather more solid than might be expected. He walked towards it after all, curious now, and a black shape loomed out of the night.

A boat?

Yassen placed a hand on his shoulder, guiding him firmly on board and Alex had to jump or fall in the water. He landed unevenly on the slippery deck and would have fallen, but Yassen had stepped across right behind him, steadying his arm and leaning past to unlock the door. 

Alex had an impression of wooden steps and a low ceiling, before Yassen pulled the door closed behind them and they were plunged into a deep twilight.

Not until he was satisfied the shutters were all firmly closed did Yassen turn on a lamp. 

Alex blinked at him in the low light, taking in his surroundings. A narrowboat.

"Where are we?" 

"Where no-one will find us." Yassen peeled off his coat and hung it from a hook on the wall. His hair was as wet as Alex's by now, and he swiftly pulled off his boots and socks, making a face as the wet bottoms of his trouser legs stuck to his ankles.

Alex hadn't moved from where he'd ended up, standing in the middle of the floor. He seemed to have lost the ability to make even the decision to sit down, and dimly realised he was starting to shake. 

Yassen crossed to where he stood, cupped his hand under Alex's jaw and tilted his face up, stared into his eyes. Pursed his lips. 

"You look like shit."

"Funny, 'cause I feel fantastic," Alex managed sourly, and Yassen laughed, looking him over carefully. The boy was clearly exhausted, and probably half in shock. 

Yassen moved his hand to thread his fingers through Alex's hair, cradling the back of his head and drawing it backwards at the same time. Unresisting, Alex watched with slightly unfocussed eyes as Yassen leaned in to the curve of his body and kissed him.

It was a more determined kiss than before, more forceful, and Yassen's other arm was tight around him, practically the only thing holding him up. Alex drew strength from the contact, wrapping his own arms around Yassen's neck and kissing him back, urgent and needy. He moaned softly, pressing forwards, and Yassen hungrily deepened the kiss.

He guided Alex back a step, lowered him to the narrow bunk, not relinquishing his mouth for more than a second, and then only to bite at his throat or collarbone.

Alex felt the mattress take his weight and then Yassen was pressing down, half on top of him, one leg draped over his own, kissing him fiercely, possessively, and Alex found he was pulling him closer, such an unexpected flood of desire coursing through his body that it almost frightened him. 

Yassen's hands were roaming over his body, stroking the line of his throat with reverent fingers, pinching a hard nipple through the cloth of his sodden shirt, running down his side – 

Alex gasped in sudden pain, jerking in Yassen's arms, and the Russian immediately went still, staring down at him searchingly.

"You are hurt." 

"It's just a scratch," Alex muttered, breathing deeply against the flare of pain.

Ignoring him, Yassen took hold of the hem of Alex's shirt – discovering for the first time the blood soaked into it, previously disguised by the rain and the dark material and yanked it up. A deep, angry looking graze ran across Alex's left side, beneath his ribs. 

He caught Alex's eye, and the boy shrugged, awkwardly. "Third guy tried to shoot me. He missed. Mostly."

"Why didn’t you tell me, you stupid boy?" Yassen muttered, sliding off the bed and pulling open a cupboard above the tiny sink.

Alex didn’t answer, realised with faint embarrassment he'd somehow expected Yassen to have known, despite there being no way he could have.

"Sorry," he whispered, instead, as Yassen sat down next to him with a small medical kit in his hand, shaking his head impatiently. 

"Take off your shirt," he ordered flatly, and Alex complied, trying not to visibly wince as the act of raising his arms sent a further spike of agony through him.

Yassen cleaned off the dried blood with efficient and none too gentle hands, and applied an antiseptic swab. Threw the soiled items into a concealed bin under the worktop and washed his hands. Turned back to regard Alex consideringly.

"The man who shot you. What happened to him?" he asked, a dangerous note in the steady tone that made Alex shiver.

He gestured to the gun that he'd been carrying, lying now on the bedcover. 

"That was his. He, er. Won’t be needing it any more."

Looked up almost nervously and blinked as he realised Yassen was smiling.

"You killed him?" Yassen asked softly, coming back to sit on the bed.

"I didn't _mean_ to!"

Yassen's smile widened. 

"No. You never do," he murmured.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Alex grumbled, but Yassen had slipped an arm around his bare shoulders and was pulling him into another kiss, softer this time, but no less focussed in its intensity. 

When Yassen let him up for air, Alex rested his head against the Russian's shoulder, trying to control his breathing which seemed to have become increasingly shaky.

Yassen seemed to note this, and rubbed a hand over Alex's back. 

"You're too cold still. I think I'll put you in the shower, hmmn?" 

Alex groaned, too tired to find the idea of having to stand up again appealing. Yassen just smirked and got to his feet, pulling open a wooden door that Alex has assumed was some sort of wardrobe and fiddling with something inside. The sound of falling water filled the small space, and Yassen turned back, beckoning with his hand. 

"Come on. Up. You will feel better when you are warmer."

"Can't." Alex knew he sounded sulky, and didn't care. Flopped backwards onto the bed instead and closed his eyes.

The next thing he knew, Yassen's hands were pulling his belt undone with fast, practised movements, pulling his trousers, pants, socks and shoes off all in one. 

Alex tried to curl in on himself, but Yassen had hold of his arm, hauling him upright and propelling him unsympathetically towards the shower. 

"In." 

A wave of dizziness caught Alex on the threshold, and he had to catch at the doorframe to stop himself from falling. Bit his lip and summoned a thread of strength from somewhere, tried to climb in. It took him two attempts to step over the lip, and once inside, the dizziness came back, his knees gave way and he felt himself crumple.

When the dizzy spell passed he realised he was being held up by Yassen, who'd caught him just before he hit the metal threshold. 

The Russian was getting steadily soaked, the edge of the shower spray wetting his shirt and jeans.

Alex opened his mouth to apologise, but Yassen looked more resigned than cross and shrugged philosophically. He stepped fully into the shower and pulled the door closed behind him. Adjusted his grip on Alex to position him under the shower head and held him there, supporting his weight, letting the warm water revive him.

After a few minutes Alex gradually started to feel better, as the feeling returned to his body and the water on his face cleared his head. 

He looked round into amused blue eyes, and finally properly registered that Yassen's clothes were soaked through and that he was stark naked.

He blushed and Yassen laughed, guessing his thoughts.

"Bit late to be embarrassed, little one," Yassen murmured in his ear, and Alex looked sheepish.

"Sorry. I mean – about your clothes and stuff."

"I was wet anyway."

Alex realised how close Yassen's mouth was, and had a sudden urge to kiss it. Shocked at himself, he hesitated, but Yassen had already taken the choice away from him, lips closing over his own once more, hands pulling Alex flush against him.

Eyes closed against the falling water, Alex let himself be swept away. He felt once more the flood of arousal he'd experienced earlier, and to his shame felt himself stiffening rapidly. He would have pulled away, but Yassen's hands were unrelenting and abruptly some barrier in Alex snapped.

He pressed forward instead, pushing his growing erection against Yassen's groin, fighting to take control of the kiss, pushing his tongue into Yassen's mouth and letting his own hands clutch at the Russian's body. 

His hand brushed Yassen's crotch and he realised Yassen was as hard as him; the knowledge sent a shiver of heat through him.

Having allowed Alex his moment of control, Yassen suddenly shoved him back against the side of the shower, trapping Alex's rigid cock between them, thrusting forward, kissing him brutally hard, hands no longer just holding him but holding him down.

Alex writhed under his touch, at the back of his mind faintly ashamed of what he was doing, of what he wanted, but unable to stop. Making little breathy moans of need in between Yassen's harsh kisses, clutching at him, fingers stroking the back of the Russian's neck, coaxing, urging.

The trembling in his limbs was no longer due to the cold, and he gasped for air, turning his face from the water and burying it in Yassen's neck, trying to breathe him in, thrusting against him desperately. 

"God," Alex panted between Yassen's bruising kisses, "what the hell am I doing?" 

Yassen smiled possessively against his skin, and grazed Alex's shoulder with his teeth. 

"It's the adrenaline," he murmured, running his nails down Alex's spine and enjoying the way the boy jerked against him. "Fight or flight." He placed his mouth to Alex's ear and whispered silkily, " _or fuck_." He bit down on Alex's earlobe to emphasise the words and Alex lost all semblance of control. 

He came helplessly, shuddering in Yassen's arms, pinned between the Russian's hard body and the cold plastic of the cubicle wall.

When he could breathe again, half sobbing for air, he looked down, realised the crotch of Yassen's jeans was covered in his come, and that the Russian was still hard.

Opened his mouth and jumped when Yassen's fingers pressed against his lips. 

"Don’t you dare apologise," Yassen murmured. He grinned, wolfishly. "I haven't finished with you yet. Not by a long way."

He stepped back, leaving Alex leaning limply against the wall, and stripped off his shirt and jeans, stepping out of them and leaving them in a damp heap in the shower tray. Clad only in soaked cotton boxers that were leaving very little to Alex's imagination, he shut off the water and stepped out of the shower, before holding out a hand to Alex – less a gesture of affection than a practicality. 

Alex accepted the assistance without complaint, although flushing with self-disgust that he was so helpless. 

Yassen wrapped him in a towel and pushed him towards the bed. Left him for a second while he lit a small oil stove, and rubbed a second towel through his own hair. 

When he turned back it was to find Alex lying curled on the bunk watching him, towel spread out beneath him to stop the covers getting wet. Yassen smiled slowly, taking in the sight with speculative pleasure.

He peeled off the wet boxers, watching Alex's eyes on him. He was still hard, and the sight of Alex's naked form laid out before him was making him harder.

"Turn over," he directed, coming to stand at the side of the bunk. Waited as Alex – hesitantly – complied, rolling onto his back, then climbed up next to him. Slid one leg across until he was straddling Alex's thighs, and ran a proprietorial hand down the boy's chest before lying full length over him and kissing him lightly on the lips. 

Alex wrapped his own arms around Yassen's chest and kissed back with a fire that made the Russian laugh with quiet appreciation. He could feel Alex starting to stiffen again beneath him, and rubbed his own hardness lazily against Alex's stomach.

"Alex," he breathed, exploring the slim body beneath him with fingertips and tongue. "You know what I'm going to do?"

Alex nodded, breathless with nervous arousal. 

"I've never – " he started, in a low voice. "I mean – not with a man." 

Yassen smiled at that, and kissed him with a rough sort of tenderness. 

"Good. I am glad I am your first." He paused, as if expecting Alex to say something, then smiled to himself when he didn't.

"What?" Alex smiled back, questioningly, tracing the line of Yassen's jaw with his fingers. 

"I thought you might ask me to be gentle," murmured Yassen, sliding a hand down between them and making Alex gasp as he closed his fingers unexpectedly around Alex's swollen shaft, the first time he'd touched him with such direct intimacy.

Alex shook the hair out of his eyes and stretched, wrapping his legs around Yassen's.

"Now why would I ask a thing like that?" he breathed, and Yassen's smile went feral.

He shifted across until he was lying along Alex's side, one hand still stroking his cock, almost idly, by now making Alex buck and whimper under his touch. Alternating bites and kisses down Alex's shoulder, he finally raised his hand to Alex's mouth.

"Suck," he directed, pressing two fingers against Alex's lips. Felt them part beneath the pressure, slid them inside Alex's warm wet mouth, feeling a soft tongue flicker over them, as Alex sucked obediently. The sensations made him ache with lust, and he couldn't help pushing forward, rubbing himself against the backs of Alex's legs. 

When Alex parted his thighs obligingly at the touch, it was all Yassen could do to stop himself groaning out loud. He had a suspicion that Alex didn’t really have a clue what he was letting himself in for, but that wasn't going to stop him taking what was offered. If anything, it just turned him on all the more. 

He drew his wet fingers out of Alex's mouth and rewarded him with a kiss to the back of the neck, shifting position again to place his hand on the small of Alex's back, stroking downwards, slipping the moistened fingers between his cheeks and rubbing at Alex's hot entrance. 

Alex stifled a grunt as Yassen pushed a single finger inside him, biting down on his lip, spasming around the invading presence.

Yassen kissed the back of his shoulder. "Don’t fight it," he murmured. "Because I'm not going to stop." True to his words, he pushed the finger further inside Alex's tight body, working it deeper, pressing and stroking and thrusting, until Alex's breath was catching in his throat and he was clutching at the bedclothes.

" _God_ ," he managed, hoarsely, and felt Yassen laugh silently against his back.

"Good?" came the quiet enquiry, but before he could answer Yassen had added a second finger and suddenly he was seeing stars.

" _Fuck_ ," Alex groaned, burying his face in the pillow and trying to breathe around the new pain. After a moment it eased enough for him to focus on the sensations instead, the thrusting, probing invasion of his body, Yassen biting along his spine, the throbbing of his own neglected cock, pressed into the towel underneath him.

He moaned again, wordlessly this time, the pressure of Yassen's unforgiving fingers inside him beginning to stir a building heat in his groin.

" _Please_ ," he whispered. "Oh _please_ , God, _please_."

No reply other than Yassen's ragged breathing, but suddenly the fingers were drawing out of him, and a new pressure made him shiver, as he felt the slick, swollen head of Yassen's cock pressing against him, the line of him warm and firm against his thigh.

Yassen's hands were on him now, spreading him, steadying him. Alex closed his eyes and tried to remember how to breathe. 

He thought he was ready but nothing could have prepared Alex for the feel of Yassen thrusting into him that first time. It felt at once obscene and glorious, agonising and yet unbelievably arousing. For a moment he couldn't breathe, couldn't see, and didn’t care. 

Alex was driving his own cock desperately into the rough towel beneath him, letting the friction do what he couldn’t summon the co-ordination to do himself. 

Yassen was slamming into him now, with no pretence of tenderness or concession towards his inexperience. The Russian was ramming his pulsing cock over and over into Alex's shaking body, taking him utterly, using him and fucking him and making him cry out over and over with the force of his thrusts.

Alex was close, he could feel it, in fact could barely stop himself coming every time Yassen drove into him, was fighting to make this insanely intense experience last as long as possible.

And then Yassen's fingers found the raw graze in his side. He went from gripping Alex's hips with a bruising hold to almost tenderly stroking across the wound – and then digging in with his fingertips.

The flash of pain arced across Alex's remaining self control and seemed to ignite every nerve ending in his body. The orgasm took him with a violent force and he shuddered as his climax rolled over him in waves, spilling into the damp towel underneath him, gasping out a single coherent word. 

_Yassen._

Wrung out like a wet rag, Alex felt Yassen hit his own peak, his climax a wet rush inside Alex's body, almost soothing after the red and bruising force of a moment before.

Yassen finally lay still, holding Alex back against his body for a long moment before carefully pulling out of him. He drew the soiled towel out from under Alex's body, used it to wipe first his hand and then his cock, before throwing it carelessly to the floor.

He yawned, and Alex crept forwards until he was lying in Yassen's willing arms.

"I take it back," Alex murmured sleepily. "What I said earlier. I don’t hate you."

Yassen laughed. "Maybe right now you don’t. In the morning you'll be sore, and thinking straight, and you'll hate me all over again." 

"Maybe." It was Alex's turn to yawn, and he fought to keep his eyes open. "But right now I don’t." 

Shaking his head, Yassen kissed him softly on the temple, but Alex was already asleep.

\--


End file.
